


to be grateful for this

by slashy (slashmyheartandhopetoporn)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 15:12:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12773703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashmyheartandhopetoporn/pseuds/slashy
Summary: And it’s then, as Steve ponders the creamy depths of his cup that he realizes the date. He turns to Thor.“Holy shit. It’s Thanksgiving.”Thor puts down his caramel beast and licks at the whipped cream dusting his mustache. “Excuse me?”Steve looks back down at his cup and shakes his head. “It’s the third Thursday of November, right?” Thor nods. “Okay, so then in the States, it’s Thanksgiving. And I almost forgot. Also, you got a little something,” Steve wipes at some invisible whipped cream at the corner of his mouth.





	to be grateful for this

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leslielol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leslielol/gifts).



> i wrote thanksgiving thundershield. of all the things to get me inspired to write. will wonders never cease?
> 
> also, i gift everything to lazzy now. what can i say. she is my endless inspiration/support and she works very hard and i wuv her.
> 
> ALSO ALSO look, this is part of some bigger fic in my brain that would explain why the heck they're in norway. for now...just go with it.

They’re at a café in Oslo when it hits Steve. It occurs to him as he looks down at his no-nonsense latté. It’s unsweetened, and contains far more milk than Steve finds strictly necessary for coffee, but it looks downright conservative next to Thor’s enormous caramel monstrosity of a beverage. And it’s then, as he ponders the creamy depths of his cup that he realizes the date. He turns to Thor.

“Holy shit. It’s Thanksgiving.”

Thor puts down his caramel beast and licks at the whipped cream dusting his mustache. “Excuse me?” 

Steve looks back down at his cup and shakes his head. “It’s the third Thursday of November, right?” Thor nods. “Okay, so then in the States, it’s Thanksgiving. And I almost forgot. Also, you got a little something,” Steve wipes at some invisible whipped cream at the corner of his mouth.

Thor wipes at the not-so-invisible whipped cream at the corner of his own mouth. “Well,” he says. “I don’t know what that means, but it sounds pleasant. Giving thanks is always an admirable thing.”

“Yeah,” Steve says. Nods. “In America, they made a whole holiday out of it. Giving thanks. Sort of, anyway.”

“And what does that mean? ‘Sort of’?” Thor sips his brew. Steve fondly accepts that with every sip he takes Thor a little less seriously. 

To Thor he says, “Turns out it was all kind of a lie. But the idea was good.”

“Isn’t that always the way of it,” Thor says. Steve turns to look at him, and finds Thor wearing an expression of understanding that counteracts the ridiculousness of the caramel mocha-chino still affixing itself to Thor’s facial hair. Steve knows about Hela and Odin, after all. About Ragnarok. He knows for a fact that Thor _does_ understand.

His eyes stay on Thor as he says, “America, it turns out, has kind of a shit history. Overall, I mean.”

Thor fakes a gasp. “And such words from its Captain!” Thor pats Steve on the shoulder. His hand lingers pleasantly. “Alas, I give you grief, Steve. Tell me more about this Thanksgiving you speak of.”

Steve shrugs, and is grateful when Thor’s hand isn’t shaken off with the movement. Is more pleased still when the thumb near the base of his neck begins to swirl in small, smooth, perfect circles. He can feel the warmth of Thor’s hand straight through the knit sweater he’s wearing.

This part of their relationship is new to Steve. Easy touches had always been part of Thor’s charm, but the intimacy of his hands on Steve’s body—lasting and gentle, warm and enticing—are an updated take. Newer still is the way Steve allows himself to enjoy it. To want more, and to ask for it. Of course, he doesn’t ask for it now, not in the middle of this terribly trendy Norwegian café. But the idea that he _could_ is enough.

He leans slightly towards Thor, but keeps his hand firmly on his mug. “I don’t know what to say, really. Thanksgiving as a holiday is meant to…celebrate some aspects of the founding of our country that. Might be _remotely_ true, but which, generally speaking, are all bullshit. It just glosses over a lot of bad stuff we did and still do in the name of our country. Which is…kind of a downer.”

“Only when you think about it,” Thor says with a wry smile. Then he raises his mug of caramel chino. It’s the kind of toast that’s better served over whiskey. Or mead. But Steve supposes milked-up coffee will have to do.

He raises his own mug and _clinks_ it gently to Thor’s. He knows there are ugly things that neither one of them can stop thinking about.

“Then tell me: Why do your people continue to celebrate this vile holiday?" 

Steve snorts. “Most people don’t think it’s vile, Thor. And I mean…it’s…the day itself isn’t so bad. Thanksgiving means, to most people…nowadays it just means family. Friends. Spending time with loved ones while sharing a meal and thinking about all the things we’re grateful for. Which is really nice.” 

Thor’s hand squeezes Steve’s shoulder, a comforting weight. “That does sound nice.”

“The problem’s just with the story. The story is a lie. But the sentiment…I don’t know, the sentiment doesn’t have to be. I guess?” Steve doesn’t know if he’s even making sense. He’s been grappling with the holiday since we came out of the ice and learned himself some real history. “Or maybe I just don’t want it to be.” He thinks about South Dakota. He's just read about the spill. It’s never as easy as what Steve, or anyone else, wants or doesn’t want.

“Would you like to know what I think, Steve?” Thor’s looking at Steve with fond and gentle eyes. His voice is soft. There isn’t the faintest cloud of whipped cream on his lips.

Steve smiles. “You know I always do.”

“Excellent,” Thor says. “I think we must always look for the best in things. In people, or places. Or ideas. There is failure and ugliness built into every breath of life, and I do not suggest we ignore it. But if we can find the grace in the midst of all the ugliness, then perhaps that is a success. You can take the bad with the good, Steve. They do not have to be mutually exclusive, nor do they need to cancel one another out.” Thor knocks back the rest of his sugared milk. “And that is my story, and I am sticking to it.” 

Steve laughs. “You’re a smart guy, Thor,” he says. He wants to say more, but doesn’t.

Thor smiles beatifically. There is milk foam in his beard. Steve thinks he may be in love.

He doesn’t say it, though. He doesn’t confess this small, impossibly fragile thing to Thor. It feels too soon. And it’s too public. It’s just too…much. So instead he simply reaches a hand out towards Thor’s mouth and gently wipes at the froth.

“So,” Thor says after Steve is done. His hand moves from Steve’s shoulder to his knee. “How do you want to mark this day?” 

Steve clears his throat. “Back in the day there’d be, well, whatever my mom could afford. She’d save for a turkey if she could. Potatoes always, because they were cheap and we were Irish. And after that, as many fixings as she could manage. And then we’d say grace. And then we’d eat. I mean, this was all assuming we could even _have_ a Thanksgiving dinner and that Ma wasn’t working. Which, a lot of the times she was. Which is when I’d spend the day with Buck, you know. Eating, shooting the shit.”

Thor lets Steve talk. Lets him ramble and remember.

“Now, _his_ family always had all the goods,” continues Steve. “They didn’t hurt for money the same way my family did. What with all my medical bills and no dad around to help pay for most of it. And Bucky’s family, they were good people. They never refused me a place at their table. And that meant a lot, you know?”

Thor nods.

“But as much as I loved Buck and his folks, it was always best at home. Sitting with Ma, helping her get everything ready. I was weak, but I could chop. I could stir. And I could damn well eat.”

“I believe this,” Thor says. “I have _seen_ this.”

Steve punches him in the arm. Thor’s massive biceps mean Steve doesn’t need to do it gently.

“You’re an asshole,” Steve says. “And also one to fucking talk.”

Thor scoffs. “Rude.” The hand on Steve’s knee inches upwards. “Is this what you want then?” Thor asks.

Steve eyes Thor’s hand and then cocks a brow.

Thor’s eyes roll. “I _meant_ the food. Do you want to prepare a similar feast? Say grace perhaps?”

Steve places one of his hands carefully over Thor’s, and squeezes. “How about we just grab some take away and go home?”

The hand under Steve’s palm turns upright, and Thor laces his fingers between Steve’s. “I like this idea immensely.”

They stand from their table, hands still locked. They carry their mugs over to the bussing station and then walk out into the crisp Oslo air.

“And, Thor?” Steve says as they walk down the street towards a restaurant they’d spotted earlier in the day. “You kind of messed with my whole, _one god_ kind of worldview. So we can skip out on the grace part.”

“You know longer believe in thanking your God for your good fortunes?”

“Not at all. I’m just taking the opportunity to thank you, too.”

Then Steve shifts, presses Thor against the wall of the nearest shop, and kisses him soundly on the lips.

“I’ve waited for you to do this all day,” Thor says, dazed, when they part.

“Funny,” Steve replies, eyes blown wide. “I was waiting for you to do the same thing. Kind of thought, _Oh, he’s the God of thunder. Surely he’ll be the one to make the first move_.”

Thor huffs. “I did put my hand on your knee.”

“And I _am_ thankful for that,” Steve agrees.

“Will you permit me to be, what did I hear Darcy say? Sappy? Will you permit me to be sappy for just a moment?”

Steve grins. “Sure. Why the hell not?”

“Then I will say this,” Thor leans in to kiss Steve once more. He pulls back slowly. “I am thankful for you, Steve. And for all of the joy you have brought me.”

“You old softie,” Steve whispers.

“I am not,” counters Thor. “I am strong as steel. Feel my muscles.”

“I’ve felt them. All marshmallows.”

Thor nudges Steve as they step back from the building. He throws an arm around Steve’s shoulders. “You are lucky that I like you.”

Steve wraps an arm around Thor’s waist. “Yeah, I am.”


End file.
